


Five for One Special

by BlueMinuet



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Comedy, Fluff, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mention of Death, Potential Illness, Some Tags Omitted, Spark Sexual Interfacing, TFX Treat, Time Shenanigans, it's actually mostly fluff ignore the darker tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 12:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMinuet/pseuds/BlueMinuet
Summary: Or: Five Times Simpatico Slipped Out of the Space-Time Continuum, and One Time Someone Else Was to BlameBrainstorm wagged a finger at him. “That sounded suspiciously accusatory. Like ‘Brainstorm and his weird time scrap’ kind of accusatory.”Perceptor shrugged in a non-committal way, gesturing at the briefcase. “Well, what’s that saying? If it walks like a turbofox and barks like a turbofox…”“Then it’s probably a Decepticon trying to frame a turbofox,” Brainstorm shot back darkly.





	Five for One Special

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thirsty4percy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirsty4percy/gifts).



> “I'll just write a quick treat,” I said. “It'll be short,” I said... Hope you enjoy this, Caitlin! <3
> 
> I'd love to leave a note about when this takes place in the canon but... Well, that's just not realistic, now is it?

**The Subjective Present  
The Engine Room ******

****  
****  


“Okay, can I open my eyes yet?”

“Almost,” Perceptor said, guiding him to move as he tried to figure out exactly where he wanted them to be standing. “Thank you for agreeing to relocate. I, uh… Well, I think closer proximity to the quantum engines will lead to a higher probability of success.” 

“Holy slag, you’re nervous,” Brainstorm said, chuckling. “I don’t know if I’ve ever heard your voice like this… it’s cute.” 

“I am not nervous!” Perceptor said, with such force that he nearly dropped the object he was holding behind his back. He knew that making Brainstorm close his eyes, and hiding _the object_ behind his back was likely overkill, but Brainstorm did have a history of peeking when told not to. “It’s just that I’m taking this very seriously.” 

“You know I’m going to agree no matter what, right?” Brainstorm’s voice was impish as ever. 

“Don’t say that! That cheapens it!” 

“Too late! You’re just going to have to deal with it,” Brainstorm said. “I mean, after all, I initiated…” 

Perceptor sighed. “Fine… now open your eyes when I say ‘go’, alright?” 

Brainstorm nodded enthusiastically, seeming to be keeping to the ‘no peeking’ rule. Perceptor reached behind his back, slowly flipping a set of clasps…  
  


* * *

**Somewhat Just Past of Present  
The Lab**

  
Brainstorm was trembling.

He didn’t want to admit he was trembling. If he ever told the story later (maybe to Chromedome, after a few shots of Nightmare Fuel at Swerve’s) there would be absolutely no trembling. Just lots of suave, controlled, sexy— 

His train of thought shattered into a million tiny pieces as Perceptor ran another digit over a transformation seam, prompting a moan and more trembling that Brainstorm felt personally affronted by. Perceptor pushed him back, so both of them were bent over the workspace in the lab. 

“Open up,” Perceptor whispered, his mouth millimeters from Brainstorm’s audial. 

Brainstorm shuddered, his panels more than willing to answer that command, but he clenched them shut, determined to not make things _too_ easy. He wrapped his arms around Perceptor’s neck and pulled him in for another kiss, his mask having been long since abandoned. 

“I’ll show you mine,” he whispered into Perceptor’s lips, his grin turning impish, “if you show me yours first.” 

Perceptor seemed to find this reasonable, his chest panels clicking open. Brainstorm’s grin was illuminated by the glow of his spark. 

“Now for your end of the deal,” Perceptor whispered, running a few more clever fingers over Brainstorm’s wing. 

Brainstorm gladly complied, squirming closer, their sparks nearly close enough to touch. 

That is, until Perceptor collapsed to the floor after a vortex opened up over their heads and spat out a strange, rectangular object that clocked him in the head. 

Later, Brainstorm would edit his scream out of the story as well.  
  


* * *

**Quite a Bit Farther in the Past  
The Bridge**

  
“Rodimus, I swear to Mortilus, if you ask me what’s going on one more time—” The ship lurched again, subject to some as-yet-unknown-force, interrupting Brainstorm’s threat as everyone on the bridge scrambled to hold on to something rather than be bucked off into the air.

Brainstorm was just collecting himself to continue explaining to Rodimus that even he needed time to think and read the scans to figure out what was going on. But before he could, he heard a shout from behind him. 

“Brainstorm!” 

He vaguely caught the blur of something Perceptor-like in his periphery before said blur toppled them both to the ground, saving them from the worst of the falling bulkhead and debris that crashed down on the spot where Brainstorm had been. 

Unfortunately, both of them were still nearly ripped apart and knocked unconscious, completely missing the burgundy rectangle appearing just off to the side.  
  


* * *

**Closer to the Present than the Future  
Crew Quarters**

  
“Neither of us are on shift tomorrow,” Perceptor said, inching closer to Brainstorm on the recharge slab, one arm softly pinning him down. “You know what that means, right?”

Brainstorm chuckled, pulling Perceptor closer. “Oh, you bet I do.” 

“It means we get to recharge in,” Perceptor whispered, smirking ever so slightly. 

“Oh hell no!” Brainstorm shoved him, pushing Perceptor over and flipping until he was the one doing the pinning. “Let me set something straight.” He reached up, catching Perceptor’s wrists and pressing them into the berth with only a token resistance. “There will be no recharging happening until I say so.” 

“Is that so?” Perceptor said, coyly. 

Brainstorm proceeded to make it clear that it was, in fact, so. He did such a good job of it, even, that both of them completely failed to notice a strange rectangular object appearing and flopping gently onto the floor.  
  


* * *

**Sometime in the Future  
The Medibay**

  
Perceptor was running so fast, he skidded while trying to turn the corner. His reflexes helped him weave and dodge, while muttering apologies to the people he nearly bowled over. He was sure that later there would be a very strongly worded memo about running in the hallways — Magnus might even come to him personally to express his disappointment (Perceptor could just about hear the disappointed “I expected better of you, of all people”) — but he kept running regardless.

He skidded to a halt at the medibay door, and nearly fell over on his way in. “I’m here! Is everything—” 

His vision seemed to jitter slightly, and before his eyes, Ratchet and Velocity disappeared without a trace, leaving only a very confused Brainstorm laying on the medical berth. 

“—okay?” Perceptor muttered,weakly finishing his thought. 

The universe replied by spitting out a squat rectangular object into thin air, plopping straight into the middle of the room. 

Brainstorm sat up, one hand clutched close to his spark chamber, staring intently at the strange object. “Okay… I’m 99% sure neither of us did that… right?” 

Perceptor swayed slightly on his feet, and considered the merits of being unconscious.  
  


* * *

**The Past-Present  
The Lab**

  
Brainstorm yelped, pulling his fingers back almost as if they had been electrically shocked, despite the fact that he'd only stuck them a few inches out of the lab door.

“If it didn't work the first seven times, I'm not sure why you thought it would work on the eighth,” Perceptor muttered, not looking up from the console he was looking at. 

Brainstorm huffed, and walked over to one of the workstations, grabbing a wrench and jabbing it in Perceptor’s general direction. (And to Brainstorm’s annoyance, he still didn't deign to look up at that.) “No, it hasn't yielded any results yet, but neither have the scans. And I don't know about you, but I'm going a little stir-crazy.”

They'd been stuck in the lab about three hours since… the incident. Brainstorm had tried to leave the lab to get help, which led to a full frontal shock, knocking him cleanly on his aft. While Perceptor had checked him over several times to make sure he was physically unharmed, he was sure that the encounter was a contributing factor to Brainstorm’s current foul mood. 

“You could help me run more scans—” Perceptor was cut off abruptly as Brainstorm parroted his words back at him, but in a higher-pitched and garbled voice, to make the sentiment neigh unrecognizable. 

“The scan results make no sense,” Brainstorm said. “Especially on that… thing.” He jabbed the wrench at the burgundy briefcase currently residing on Perceptor’s workspace. 

“I’m curious,” Perceptor said. “Are you mad at it because it appears to be a perversion of your life’s work or because it’s so far removed as to make its purpose inscrutable?” 

“Shut up,” Brainstorm hissed, his frown evident in his voice even if his mask hid it from view. “Clearly I didn’t make this thing, and as soon as I found out who _did_ we are going to have _words_.” 

“That having been said, finding out how this works seems like our obvious first priority, rather than wasting time on the barrier,” Perceptor said, his voice even and calming, as if trying to reason with a cornered animal. 

Brainstorm shook the wrench at him again. “Percy, all due respect, if I can’t figure out what it does, why would you be able to?” 

Perceptor made no attempt at hiding his glare.

“You know it pains me to say this, because I love gadgets, but the time has come for some good old fashioned first hand observations.”

“I'm not sure that—” Once again, Perceptor was cut off, this time by the wrench whizzing through the air. Brainstorm chucked it at the doorway, and to both their surprise, it didn't bounce back. However…

“Holy slag, did it just disintegrate?” Brainstorm asked, his optics cycled out as wide as they would go. 

“No…” Perceptor walked over, also a bit awed, to take some of those ‘good old fashioned first hand observations’ that Brainstorm had been so adamant about. “It… it rusted in midair. Look, the majority of its mass landed there,” he said, pointing at a rusty lump by the far wall. 

“As soon as it hit the barrier, it almost looked like it exploded.” Brainstorm leaned as close to the barrier as he could get without touching — and thanks to his previous experiments, he had a very in-depth knowledge of where that boundary lay. “I guess that was the rust on the surface coming off. You can see it nearly covering the hallway… It looks like the wrench has just been left to the mercy of the elements for… What? Centuries?”

Perceptor squinted at the wrench, and stepped away. “So your hypothesis is… time dilation?” 

Brainstorm wagged a finger at him. “That sounded suspiciously accusatory. Like ‘Brainstorm and his weird time scrap’ kind of accusatory.” 

Perceptor shrugged in a non-committal way, gesturing at the briefcase. “Well, what’s that saying? If it walks like a turbofox and barks like a turbofox…” 

“Then it’s probably a Decepticon trying to frame a turbofox,” Brainstorm shot back darkly. 

Perceptor shrugged again. “This new data might help interpret the strange readings I’ve been getting. The entire ship seems out of sync with itself. The communication systems and sensors can’t even read anything outside of our lab, and if we presume that this is due to chronal distortions, we may be able to at least figure out how to adapt to that. Maybe modulate a signal to—”

Once again, Perceptor was cut off, but this time from a burst of static blaring from the comm station behind him. 

Brainstorm’s optics twinkled in such a way as to suggest he was smirking smuggly behind his face mask. “Seems like someone beat you to the punch, Percy.” 

Perceptor frowned. “Who would have…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Clearly whoever is trying to contact us is also having trouble compensating for the chronal distortion. Maybe if we—” 

“Shush!” Brainstorm waved for him to stop. 

“There’s no reason to get testy…” 

“No, shush, listen,” Brainstorm said, waving at the comm station. “There’s a pattern in the static.”

The two of them fell silent, listening to the static busts of varying lengths. 

“Longs and shorts,” Peceptor noted. 

“Some kind of binary?” Brainstorm asked. He cleared the data from the screen of a smart board and started noting the length of the bursts. 

“It’s a frequency,” Perceptor said. “They’re trying to tell us how to hone in on them.” 

“Here take over,” Brainstorm said, handing the pen to Perceptor while he knelt down and pulled the bottom-most panel of the comm station. “I’ll make the adjustments. You figure out if there’s anything else in the signal.” 

Perceptor nodded, continuing to note the static bursts, and reading out the frequency modifications to Brainstorm. Slowly, the static faded, and soon an image dialed into focus on the screen. 

“Ah, good, you figured out the code,” Perceptor said, causing Brainstorm — who was still halfway inside the comm station — to cock his head. Brainstorm was of course never opposed to praise, but considering they had done this together, he wasn’t sure what that was about. He pulled his head out and looked up to ask, only to see Perceptor staring at the screen, shell-shocked and unspeaking. Brainstorm tried to ask what was going on, only for Perceptor to wave him off, and then flip his hand in a come-here gesture. Brainstorm grumbled, pulling himself up enough to see the screen. 

Another Perceptor was staring back at him.

“They figured it out? It’s about time!” came a muffled Brainstorm voice, except Brainstorm himself hadn’t said anything. He watched in shock as the Perceptor on screen reached down, and helped a Brainstorm over on his side to stand up. This other Brainstorm wasn’t wearing his face mask, making it easy to see his annoyance. “Finally. Were we that slow when we were them?” 

“When you were us?” the Perceptor on this side of the screen asked. “Does that mean you’re… from the future?” 

“As far as we can tell, yes,” Future!Perceptor said. “We’re in the medical bay right now, so we don’t have many instruments at our disposal that are meant to take these types of readings.” 

“We’ve done some things to a lot of these instruments that I’m pretty sure Ratchet will rip off our plating over once he finds out,” Future!Brainstorm added with a shrug. 

“As far as you can tell?” said the Brainstorm from the… past? Present? His brain boggled for a moment with the possibility of having to keep multiple versions of himself straight in his head, before he dropped that train for the sake of his sanity. “Does that mean you’re not responsible for…” He picked up the briefcase from Perceptor’s workspace and gestured at it. 

“Oh, hey, you’ve got one too?” Future!Brainstorm picked up an identical briefcase. “Yeah, this, uh… Well, it literally dropped out of thin air on us.” 

Past?Present?Perceptor rubbed the back of his helm. “Tell us about it.” 

“Wish I could,” Future!Brainstorm grumbled. “Are you as pissed off about this as I am?” He asked in what could be considered a conspiratory whisper with the other Brainstorm. 

“Yes! What the frag is it doing?” Past-Present!Brainstorm agreed. 

“All I can say for sure is that it refuses to shut down,” Future!Brainstorm said with a nod. “Whatever it’s doing, it seems very intent on continuing to do it. Or is in the process of doing it and won’t be interrupted.” 

“Judging from the fact that we’re even having this conversation, I’d guess that it’s purpose is to fracture time somehow,” Past-Present!Perceptor said. 

“Quite right,” Future!Perceptor said. “As we mentioned we are limited in our scanning abilities, but luckily the medical bay has security clearances in place in case of a lockdown.We were able to activate the security camera feeds, and once we figured out how to account for the chronal distortions across the ship, we started examining the feed to see if we could pinpoint what was going on. We believe there to be at least four or five distinct, um, well…” 

“Time bubbles,” Future!Brainstorm chimed in. 

Future!Perceptor frowned at him. “Fine. Time bubbles. Distinct regions which share the same temporal alignment. Normally the entire ship would be in the same temporal alignment, but…” 

“That actually lines up with our readings,” Past-Present!Perceptor said. “I’ll send you what we have, but once we realized that chronal distortion was involved, I began to notice that there were different regions. I believe it to be five regions, if not more.” 

“Wait a minute,” Past-Present!Brainstorm said. “If your number of time bubbles guess was based on your camera feeds… Does that mean you were watching us?” 

“Yes, I saw your diva meltdown with the wrench,” Future!Brainstorm said, grinning. 

“He did the same thing,” Future!Perceptor said, jabbing a thumb at his Brainstorm, ignoring his indignant squawk at that. “But that was three hours ago with a hyperspanner.” 

“The hyperspanner deserved it,” Future!Brainstorm muttered, crossing his arms. “And excuse me if I was a little bit stressed after watching every single doctor disappearing!” 

“I’m sorry… disappearing?” Past-Present!Brainstorm asked. “What does that mean?” 

“It means that as of right now,” Future!Perceptor said, “as far as we can tell, the Lost Light crew consists of five Perceptors and five Brainstorms. We haven’t observed anyone else in the… time bubbles.” 

“And you contacted us first?” Past-Present!Brainstorm said. “Should we be flattered?” 

Future!Brainstorm rolled his eyes. “Yes, it was a very complex equation based on who was smartest, prettiest, most non-inebriated, and also…” He stopped very abruptly, optics going wide. “Please excuse me,” he whispered in a pained voice, and seemed to collapse outside of the camera’s viewing angle.

Past-Present!Brainstorm leaned forward. “Wait, what was that?” 

“He’s fine,” Future!Perceptor said, head turned to where his Brainstorm had flopped away, and despite his words he looked slightly concerned. “He was about to say ‘And currently in the lab.’ No offence, but our main objective in contacting your group was your strategic location.” 

Past-Present!Perceptor nodded. “That makes sense. Our tools will be helpful in solving the issue. Do you have an idea of where the other groups are located?” 

“No, back up!” Past-Present!Brainstorm waved a hand, cutting off whatever the Perceptors were about to say. “I want to know why I’m dying in the future!” 

“He’s not dying,” Future!Perceptor said. “Let’s just say there’s a reason we were in the medical bay and leave it at that.” 

“No. No no no, let’s **not** ‘leave it at that’!” Past-Present!Brainstorm said, crooking his fingers in angry air-quotes. 

“He doesn’t want to tell you because he’s worried about causing branching timelines,” said Future!Brainstorm, presumably from the floor of the medbay, his voice sounding slightly strained. He pointed a finger up high enough to be visible on camera. “Even though I’m not entirely sure any of us are from the same timeline anyway. And technically speaking, whose fault is it for making branching timelines possible, hmm?” 

Future!Perceptor rolled his eyes (or at least appeared to, as far as they could tell, with the eyepiece still covering one). “That’s not relevant to this conversation.” 

“Right,” Past-Present!Perceptor agreed. “We should focus on figuring out what happened and how to reverse it.” He turned to his Brainstorm, lowering his voice. “We can find out about the future later.” 

Past-Present!Brainstorm met his gaze and sighed. “Fine,” he whispered. “But you’re helping me find a cure for whatever weird future disease I have.” He was pleased to see his Perceptor smirk slightly. 

That was nearly enough to convince him to drop it altogether, when his alternate-self whimpered on the other side of the screen. Future!Perceptor, seeming to almost forget about the camera, grabbed his hand firmly. “Are you sure you’re alright, sweetspark?” 

Past-Present!Perceptor choked on nothing, his intakes sputtering. His future doppelganger turned back to the camera, his face going ashen as he realized what he’d said. 

Shockingly, Future!Brainstorm started laughing, pulling himself up. “Ha! You slipped! You thought I was going to be the one to spoil the future, but ha!” 

“Wait, wait.” Past-Present!Perceptor started waving his arms slowly, as if deliberately trying to wave away some kind of haze. “That’s… Why would I… I don’t talk like that… At what point do I start talking like that…” 

“Apparently sometime after we start fragging regularly,” Past-Present!Brainstorm said, happy to have his face mask to disguise his smirk at his lab partner’s small meltdown.

“How can you be so calm about this?” 

“Oh, so when it’s about my future terminal illness, it can wait, but when it’s about you suddenly picking up pet names for me, we have to launch an investigation?” 

“I forgot how far back they are,” Future!Perceptor muttered. 

“I don’t know why you’re so upset anyway,” Past-Present!Brainstorm continued, idly examining his servos. “It’s not as if we weren’t about to ‘forge our way into the future’ back there, if you know what I mean.” 

“We were so cute back then,” Future!Brainstorm said, leaning on his Perceptor. “So young and innocent and really oblivious… well, one of us at least.” 

Past-Present!Perceptor let his helm fall into his hands. “Can we just… pretend this discussion isn’t happening and push forward?” 

Future!Perceptor synthesised a cough. “Right. That’s for the best… So as I was about to say, several interruptions back, we believe there to be about five different sets of, well, us on the ship,” Future!Perceptor said. “We seem to be the future-most set. The set on the bridge is the past-most. Then the two of you are the next in chronological order, followed by a set that we presume to be in the engine room, and then a set in our… er, my quarters.”

“What are we doing in…” Past-Present!Brainstorm stopped himself, waving a hand. “Nevermind, I can figure that part out.” 

“For the record, last we checked, it didn’t look like they had noticed our situation yet,” Future!Brainstorm muttered. 

“For three hours?!” Past-Present!Brainstorm asked. He made eye contact with his future-self, surreptitiously pointing at Perceptor. His future-self nodded, giving him a thumbs up in return. “Nice,” he muttered.

“Focus,” Future!Perceptor sighed. “If we’re going to find out what happened, unfortunately — because I know this will only cause more awkwardness and confusion — we need to contact the other groups. Since neither of us appear to have created this… device… I’m guessing it was one of them. And only once we know the cause can we reverse it.”

“Right,” Past-Present!Perceptor said. “I’m assuming you’ll say you’d like us to try to contact the past-most group on the bridge, and you’ll work on contacting the groups that are in our future. That’s what I would say.” 

Future!Perceptor nodded, seeming relieved. 

“Wait, one more question,” Past-Present!Brainstorm said. 

Both Perceptors sighed. 

“No, it’s important, I swear,” Brainstorm continued. “You mentioned earlier that you _presume_ there’s a pair of us in the engine room. What did you mean by that? Did you actually see them there or not?” 

“Actually, that’s the thing,” Future!Brainstorm said. “We only saw a Brainstorm, granted a somewhat roughed up one. No visual confirmation on a Perceptor though. But since all the other groups are in pairs…” 

“Presumably he would be fine,” Past-Present!Perceptor said. “Considering there are Perceptors from more-future timeframes. Unless…” 

“Branching timelines,” Future!Perceptor said. 

“That’s why you wanted to avoid contaminating the timeline,” Past-Present!Perceptor said. “No matter how unlikely it, if we try to ensure that we stay in the same timeline, then that Perceptor is guaranteed to survive. But if we trigger an offshoot, we may _cause_ his death.” 

“Nuh uh,” Past-Present!Brainstorm said. “Nope, no dead Perceptors on our watch.” He looked over at his Perceptor. “I gotta keep you alive to fix my weird future disease after all, right?” 

He was rewarded with the barest hint of a smile from his Perceptor. 

“Alright then,” Future!Perceptor said. “Let’s get the team together.”  
  


* * *

**The Past  
The Bridge**

  
Brainstorm was having a bad day. First the ship had run into turbulence so bad that he and his would-be rescuer were both ripped to shreds and knocked unconscious. Then they’d woken up sometime later, and due to the damage to their frames, they were in a position that was damn near obscene, the holes in their frames practically bringing their sparks touching.

He would have been happy to call it a day then and shake hands with Perceptor to never mention it again, but now he was talking to a future version of both of them. 

Great. 

“Hey, if you’re really me, maybe you cut out all the T-I-M-E talk, yeah?” he jabbed a thumb over at his Perceptor, who was digging through the rubble. “We all know time travel is fake here, yeah?” He clutched his orange briefcase close.

Past-Present!Brainstorm winced. “Look, I’m not supposed to spoil the future for you, but I mean… maybe find a new wrist accessory, okay?” 

Past!Brainstorm squinted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Found it!” Past!Perceptor called, holding up a burgundy briefcase. Past!Brainstorm eyes boggled. “It must have gotten buried in the wreckage.” 

“Great,” Past-Present!Brainstorm sighed. “Another briefcase with no explanation. Perfect.” 

“I think I remember this turbulence incident,” Past-Present!Perceptor said, tapping his chin. “I don’t remember either of us getting this injured though. 

“Hmm, yeah, let’s add _that_ to the list of things to worry about,” Past-Present!Brainstorm said with a sigh. “Another log on the fire…”  
  


* * *

**The Present-Future  
Crew Quarters**

  
Brainstorm and Perceptor looked sheepishly at the burgundy briefcase on the floor while their future selves looked at them through a vid screen.

“Yeah, I’m pretty embarrassed we didn’t notice that,” Brainstorm said. 

“Ditto,” his Perceptor whispered. 

Their future selves just shrugged, nearly in unison. “It happens.” 

“Hope our past selves had more luck,” Future!Brainstorm muttered. “Hmm, wonder if we can make this a group call…”  
  


* * *

**In a group call, unable to be strictly defined by time frame descriptors…**

  
“Even if time travel were possible,” Past!Perceptor said as nearly everyone else on the call rolled their eyes, “I don’t know why we’re even entertaining the idea of splintering timelines. We may alter the future in some way, but the most recent data suggest that the ‘multiple timelines’ theory is bunk—”

“Please drop it,” every other Perceptor muttered, nearly in unison, with an equal hint of shame. 

So far, they had been unable to contact the fifth of the splintered timeframes, and since none of the ones on the call had been directly responsible for their current predicament, their speculation nearly always got derailed, either by skepticism or bickering. 

Often both.

Nearly every Brainstorm chuckled at Past!Perceptor’s expense, the only exception being Future!Brainstorm, who groaned in pain again, dropping off camera. 

“Okay, someone please tell me why I’m dying in the future!” Present-Future!Brainstorm nearly shouted. His concern was plain, given his face-mask was off (which was only one part of the dishevelment between him and his partner that the rest of the group was either too polite or too afraid to point out). 

That seemed to open the bickering flood gates. 

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” 

“We can’t risk contaminating the timeline!” 

“The timeline is clearly already splintered!” 

“You can’t splinter the timeline! The multiverse theory is fake!” 

“Drop it!” 

“Guys,” Future!Brainstorm said, waving while being helped up by his Perceptor. “Stop fighting for a few seconds, we have an incoming transmission.” 

Everyone fell silent for that. The possibility of finally getting an answer from the last group seemed to be enough to halt their banter in an instant. 

Slowly, a grainy picture came into a focus, and soon a smiling Brainstorm was on screen. Like two of the other Brainstorms, he was maskless, but he was also covered in soot and burn marks, not unlike his past-most version. “Ah, there it is. Finally. I figured out that there were multiple time bubbles fracturing the ship, and once I worked out where all of you were chronologically to me, I started working on a way to contact you, but as soon as I tried… Well, I guess you’re all just as smart as me, so it makes sense you’d beat me to the punch.” 

“Not to get in the way of any much overdue explaining,” Past-Present!Brainstorm chimed in. “But as you can see the rest of us are going by the buddy system—” he jabbed his thumb in the direction of his Perceptor— “and we’ve been kind of worried about you potentially lacking yours.” 

“Oh, right, don’t worry.” Present!Brainstorm moved the camera, pointing it downwards. An equally damaged Perceptor was on the floor, eyepiece cracked and a few field patches of metal and solder on his body. One of his arms was wrapped in a metal mesh to hold his elbow joint in place. Despite all of that, he seemed mostly in good spirits, waving at the camera. 

Future!Perceptor cleared his vocalizer. “Good. That out of the way. Can you tell us what this is?” He held up the briefcase. “Did it originate in your timeline?” 

Present!Perceptor’s optic went wide. “Wait, it… it manifested in your time frame?” 

“Is that a look of shame I see on a Perceptor’s face?” Past-Present!Brainstorm said, giving his previously-accusatory-Perceptor a glance. “How delicious. But also, it’s not just one.” He held up the briefcase that had manifested in his time frame as well. 

The others pulled up their briefcases too, accounting for four in total. 

“But… how?” Present!Perceptor asked, turning to his Brainstorm. “It… it came back to us though.” 

Present!Brainstorm held up an identical briefcase, bringing the total to five. “Sorry, sweetspark. I think you screwed up.” 

Present!Perceptor grinned sheepishly. “Oops… Hope that doesn’t mean you’re taking your ‘yes’ back?” 

“Never,” Present!Brainstorm said, leaning close and giggling, almost giddy. Nearly everyone did a double take as Present!Perceptor joined in with a more downplayed, but still undeniably giddy, laugh of his own. 

“Maybe you’re the one with a future disease we need to fix,” Past-Present!Brainstorm whispered, only loud enough to his Perceptor to hear. 

“At this point, I’m not willing to discount it,” came the reply, his Perceptor frowning. “I’ve been weighing the possibility of this being a very convoluted prank.” 

“Okay, you two cut it out,” Future!Brainstorm said, addressing the ‘present’ couple. “That’s sickening, even from my perspective.” 

“Were we ever like that?” Future!Perceptor muttered, worried. “Primus, I hope not.” 

“Maybe we should write an apology note to… basically everyone we know,” Present-Future!Brainstorm said, looking a bit worried. 

“I suppose I should explain,” Present!Perceptor said. “I, well… you know ever since the… time travel incident…” 

“The what?” Past!Perceptor asked, and was promptly ignored. 

“I’d been fascinated by the construction of the machine. So ground breaking and just… genius.” He smiled up at his Brainstorm, receiving a giddy smile. “Anyway, well… I’ve been working on this for some time, but since we’ve been — ah — _involved_ for a while, I started to get the feeling Brainstorm was going to initiate the conjunx ritus soon, and well… I wanted to have this ready for the fourth rite. Show my love through action…” He looked over to his Brainstorm again, this time a bit sheepish. “Guess I failed.” 

“Are you kidding?” Present!Brainstorm asked. “You broke space and time for me!” He grabbed his Perceptor’s undamaged hand. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done.” 

“Hold on, I thought all of the briefcases were destroyed,” Past-Present!Brainstorm said. “And the schematics too. So, were you trying to rebuild it? What are we looking at here?” 

“Wait, can we go back to my life’s work being destroyed?” Past!Brainstorm asked, voice wavering slightly. 

“They were destroyed,” Present!Perceptor said, “but—” 

“I’m going to be sick,” Past!Brainstorm muttered. 

“Wait a minute,” Present-Future!Brainstorm said. “We’re chronologically after them. And I know that wasn’t how our fourth rite went down. How far off course are we? Don’t tell me…” 

Present-Future!Perceptor shrugged. “To be honest, I considered something like that, but eventually I just gave up and put it in storage. I thought about using it for the rite, but, well, at the last minute I had this funny feeling it would explode.” 

“Quite rightly,” Present!Perceptor said, gesturing to his broken arm.

Future!Brainstorm looked expectantly at his Perceptor, who shrugged just as sheepishly. “That tracks, actually…” 

“Okay, all that aside…” Future!Brainstorm stopped as soon as he began, grabbing his Perceptor’s shoulder as he swayed and winced in pain. 

“Not this again,” sighed Past-Present!Brainstorm again. 

“Wait, am I dying in the future?” Present!Brainstorm asked, suddenly confused. “Did we establish this before I joined the call? What did I miss? Is he — am I — okay?”

“Yes, he’s dying, but he won’t tell us why,” Present-Future!Brainstorm said, rolling his optics again. 

“Not dying,” Future!Brainstorm muttered, his face mostly pressed into his Perceptor’s arm. “Just hurts.” 

“Come on, you might as well tell us,” Past-Present!Brainstorm said. “At least a hint.”

“Is it Perceptor’s fault?” Past!Brainstorm asked, still glaring warily at his Perceptor. 

“Was it a lab accident?” Present!Brainstorm asked. 

Future!Brainstorm looked up, and his Perceptor looked over, raising his brow. “Actually, yeah,” Perceptor said. 

“It kinda was a lab accident when you put it like that,” Future!Brainstorm said, smirking. “Which I will, from now on, at every opportunity.”

“If we can move on from whatever that’s supposed to mean,” Past-Present!Brainstorm said. “I believe my farthest flung future-self was about to bring up the thing all the Brainstorms have been thinking. The time cases _don’t work like this_.” 

Future!Brainstorm pointed at him. “Exactly that.”

“So, Perceptors. Explain,” Present-Future!Brainstorm said, rubbing his hands together expectantly. 

“Well,” Present!Perceptor began, shrugging. “It wouldn’t be a very good present if it was just a copy of your work. It’s a transformative work. An homage.” 

“I’m very flattered, but I’m pretty sure the other Brainstorms want to kill you right now, sweetspark,” his Brainstorm said, prodding him. “Get to the point.”

“It’s not a time machine in the same sense,” Present!Perceptor explained. “I got the idea from the time fissures that opened in the wake of Stormy’s time excursion… It allowed us to have a passive exploration of the past. So I thought, what if we could apply that concept not only to our timeline, but also to others. Rather than trying to change the past—”

“Wait, this thing is designed to _change_ the _past_?!” Past!Perceptor asked, taking a slight sidestep away from his Brainstorm’s briefcase. 

“—instead, this one should only _observe_ the past,” Present!Perceptor continued, unbothered by the outburst. “Or the future. And not just our past and future, but others as well. But, umm… clearly there are some bugs. I’m not sure… how it could have caused this.” 

“How are you targeting specific timelines?” Past-Present!Brainstorm asked. 

“It’s not targeting, per se,” Present!Perceptor said. “After all, I don’t exactly know the options. I figured it could just… surprise us.” 

“Okay, but _when_ was it dialed into?” Present-Future!Brainstorm asked. “What time period were you aiming for exactly? I mean, you have to use _something_ as an anchor, right? Otherwise it would just… Well…” He waved a hand vaguely in the air.

Present!Perceptor blinked, looked down at his briefcase, back up, and then finally looked away from the camera altogether. His Brainstorm sighed. “Oh, honey…” 

“Amateur,” the rest of the Brainstorms sighed in near unison. 

“Have you tried turning it off?” Future!Brainstorm asked, scowling. “Do we need to cover off switches for you?” 

“It won’t switch off,” Present!Brainstorm said. “I can at least confirm that part. It disappeared as soon as he first activated, and we kind of took it as a loss we’d deal with later. But then it came back, and obviously turning it off was the first thing we tried... Every time we’ve tried flipping it off, it reactivates. It’s pulling power from somewhere, but I can’t figure out where.” 

“Well, that matches up with our experiences in the other time frames,” Future!Perceptor confirmed. 

“Then, is the one in the present not the control case?” Past-Present!Brainstorm asked. 

“They probably all are,” Future!Brainstorm said. “They’re probably all the same briefcase, superpositioned through all of our time frames and timelines.” 

“Then they’re probably feeding power from each other,” Present-Future!Brainstorm said. “When we try to turn off one we’re technically only turning off one fifth of it… and then the rest of it signals to reactivate the one that’s off.” 

“Well, then an obvious solution comes to mind,” Past!Brainstorm said.

All the Brainstorms picked up the briefcase, in some cases plucking it from the hands of a befuddled Perceptor. 

“Okay, count of three, right?” Present!Brainstorm asked, getting nods from his dopplegangers. 

“One.”

“Two.” 

“Three.” 

All of them looked at each other as the briefcases shut down… and then instantly came back on, all of them still in the call. 

“The best laid plans of Brainstorms,” Future!Brainstorm muttered. “Typical.” 

“So, something else is reactivating them?” Present-Future!Perceptor asked. “What is it then?” 

“If we’re voicing unanswered questions, I’ve been wondering something as well,” Past!Perceptor said. 

Nearly everyone rolled their optics. 

“I promise it’s not about the impossibility of this situation, I’m doing my utmost to just swallow that,” Past!Perceptor said. “But why are there only five time bubbles? Not that I’m eager to talk to a multitude of myself, but if I’m understanding correctly, this could have affected a theoretically infinite number of timelines and time periods. There must be some kind of criteria we’re missing.” 

“That’s a good point,” Future!Brainstorm said, cupping his chin in thought. 

“Wait, wait, I bet I got this one,” Past-Present!Brainstorm said. “Or at least, some of you might need to fill in the gaps, but…” he paused, and laughed to himself. “Present!Perceptor, you modified the spark-signature recognition conditions in its coding, right? You wanted to modify it so it would recognize both of us as a user.” 

“Yes, of course. I wanted it to take both of us.” 

“So it sent out a signal searching for not one spark, and if I’m right, it wasn’t even searching for two separate sparks. Rather, I think you accidentally set it to look for a _combination_ of sparks,” Past-Present!Brainstorm said. “And it didn’t recognize it in your time and place.” He looked at his Perceptor. “But it found that signature in ours.” 

Past-Present!Perceptor gave him a startled look. “Certainly you’re not suggesting…” 

“It makes sense,” Past-Present!Brainstorm said. “After all, we know that we’re not the only ones present that were combining sparks.” He jabbed his thumb at the Present-Future pair. 

Present-Future!Brainstorm laughed into his hand. “Well, we fragged so hard we got stuck in limbo. That’s a new one.” 

“That, uh, actually tracks for us too,” Present!Brainstorm said, slightly sheepish. “I mean, once the briefcase disappeared… well, we figured we could figure it out later and… well.” 

Present!Perceptor shrugged, looking embarrassed. 

“Well, it certainly doesn’t work out for us!” Past!Perceptor said. “Regardless of our… future activities, we certainly weren’t…” 

“Uh, I mean…” Past!Brainstorm stepped in. “We did wake up in a pretty compromised position… Our frames practically got mashed together in the crash… It’s possible that…” 

Past!Perceptor groaned. 

“Sorry buddy,” Past-Present!Brainstorm said with a shrug. 

“This is preposterous,” Past!Perceptor muttered. “I think I need to retire to a nice crystal farm after this. Something simple.” 

“I give you a week before you go stir-crazy and try to condense the crystals into a perpetual motion machine,” his Brainstorm said, patting him on the shoulder. 

“So, that just leaves one more time frame.” Past-Present!Brainstorm looked to the future set. “Let’s see what you two have to confess.” 

“Well, not to poke a hole in your theory, but given that we were in a medbay full of doctors, we certainly weren’t merging at the time,” Future!Perceptor said. 

“Actually, we kinda were,” Future!Brainstorm said, looking shell-shocked, holding a hand to his chest plates. “But it’s not us.” He taped his chest. “It’s him. The signal picked _him_ up.” 

Future!Perceptor gave him a near panicked look. “Scrap. Do you think so?” 

He nodded. “The whole problem all along has been that the spark doesn’t have room to fully differentiate. Ratchet said my chamber is too narrow. He might have continued on that thought, but then… The point is, with the spark unable to differentiate, he hasn’t _developed_ into a unique spark signature. It’s basically just a glob of your spark piggybacking off of mine. So, the briefcase picked up a spark signature that matched its parameters exactly, and… poof!” 

Past-Present!Brainstorm groaned. “Primus, I was really hoping we were just fragging in the medbay.”

Past!Brainstorm was staring off into the middle distance. “Wait, so, you’re… we’re… I’m…” 

Both the Present and Present-Future sets scooted a few inches away from each other, all four looking some shade of horrified. 

Past-Present!Perceptor stared at the screen, then his Brainstorm, then back. “So… so, I… so in the future, we…?” 

“I hate time travel,” Past!Perceptor sighed. “This is… this is too much of the future to take in all at once…” 

“ _You’re_ tired of time travel?” Past!Brainstorm said. “I’m sorry, are you the one that has-been-slash-is-currently-slash-will-be sparked up? Excuse you, this is my time to panic!” 

Present-Future!Perceptor vented heavily. “Okay, I’m starting to come to terms with it. Not having to mentally come to terms with time travelling briefcases and getting a crash course on our romance probably helps.” 

“Speak for yourself, I’m still kind of woozy,” Present-Future!Brainstorm said, slapping his Perceptor’s arm lightly. “Oh slagging vector sigma, I’m not sparked right now, am I? This would officially be the worst way to find out. I’ll scream.” 

“Okay, while all of them have the panic attacks we had weeks ago,” Future!Perceptor said, turning to his Brainstorm, “what do we do about this? If the briefcases are caught in a feedback loop, reactivating each other every time they detect the spark signature, how do we break the loop? It’s one thing for our past-selves to stop merging, but in this case.” 

“Not an option, yeah,” Future!Brainstorm said, tapping his chest plates softly. “Alright, umm… wait!” He reached out and grabbed both of his Perceptor’s hands. “Hold on, I have half an idea, give me a second.” 

The group call was uncharacteristically quiet as he thought, though that likely had more to do with the rest of the time bubbles still working through the various stages of shock than out of any kind of courtesy. 

Future!Brainstorm squeezed Perceptor’s hands. “Okay, I have a whole idea, and you’re going to hate it. But if we do it right, probably no one will die.” 

Future!Perceptor gave him a concerned frown. “You’re right, I already don’t like it.” 

“Remember when we went through Mauler space? We used Biometric Envelopment Devices to mask everyone’s spark signals?” 

Perceptor nodded. “Of course. We probably can modify medbay equipment to have the same spark-cloaking effect. However, it’s only efficient enough to block one spark signal, and B.E.D.s aren’t able to dial in to a specific spark. We’d have no guarantee that it would block the sparkling’s signal instead of yours. And I don’t think we have time to invent one with that kind of fine tuning…” 

“Exactly,” Brainstorm said. “Which is why we only position it over one spark.” 

“I’m a physicist, not a physician,” Perceptor said. “Even if it’s possible to separate the sparkling from your spark at this point, I can’t guarantee that I can do it without killing it or you.” 

“Wrong way around,” Brainstorm said. “We’re not removing the sparkling. We’re stopping my spark.” 

“Are you insane?” Perceptor tried to pull away.

“Well, probably,” Brainstorm said, holding him in place. “But listen, we only need one minute, maybe two. The sparkling can live without my energy for at least that long, and it’s not long enough for an irreversible soft-termination either.” 

“Those are assumptions! You’re not a doctor either!” 

“While I’m under, every group has to deactivate their briefcase at the exact same time,” Future!Brainstorm said, pressing on despite Perceptor’s concern. “Without the spark signal to reactivate them, and without each other to bounce off of, the effect should wear off, and we’ll all be returned back to the point in time we originally came from. Even if something does go wrong, we’ll end up right back in the medbay, surrounded by doctors that can revive both of us.” 

“ _If_ you’re right,” Perceptor said, whispering and pulling him closer. “What if you’re not?” 

“When’s the last time I got it wrong?” Brainstorm asked, smirking cheekily. 

“Don’t do that. I’m serious. I’m not going to… risk everything on a _hunch_. If something goes wrong, then I’m on my own trying to save you and I don’t… I don’t want to do that.” 

“I think he’s right,” Past-Present!Perceptor said. “The plan will work. And with all due respect to myself, you’re wrong.” He vented deeply before continuing. “You’re not alone. There’s eight of us here. You can patch the medical feed into our call. If there’s any problem, we’ll spot it in an instant. And nine heads are better than one.” He looked over at his Brainstorm. “No dead Brainstorms today, right?” 

“Right,” Present!Perceptor said. “I know you weren’t talking to me, but, obviously I agree. We can help.”

“Same here,” Past!Perceptor said. “The future may be horrifying and overwhelming, but… let’s get back to our time so we can get there the less stressful way.” 

“I think I speak for all Brainstorms everywhere that we support this idea wholeheartedly,” Present-Future!Brainstorm said. “Especially the not dying part.” 

“Are you sure about this?” Future!Perceptor asked, nearly whispering. He gripped his Brainstorm’s hands and pulled him closer. “I mean, I know it was your idea, but are you absolutely sure? You’re putting your life in my hands in a very literal way.” 

“Percy,” he said, smirking. “I may not know much about our future, but I know this much. I’m not going to die on your watch.” He pulled one of his hands gently out of Perceptors grasp, and tapped his finger on Perceptor’s forehead. “Because you,” he moved his finger, tapping his own head, “and me.” 

Perceptor smirked. “Simpatico.” 

Brainstorm smiled, pulling away. “Alright, I’ll get started constructing the B.E.D., everyone in the past get ready to synchronize shutting down the briefcases while keeping me alive. No pressure.” 

“Of course not,” Past!Brainstorm said. “Just a normal cycle on the Lost Light.”  
  


* * *

  
_”Alright, everyone. Get ready to shut down on my mark.”_

_“Vitals fluctuating, we have to go soon.”_

_“Three._

_“Two._

_“One…”_  
  


* * *

**The Relative Present**

  
Perceptor tapped his fingers against the briefcase. He felt like he’d been doing something important with it… well, of course he was going to do something important, but…

Brainstorm would be here any minute. He had planned to present the briefcase to him, but… as soon as he heard the door open, he scrambled to hide the case. He had a sinking feeling something would go wrong — a strange sense of dread about it that he couldn’t explain — and he couldn’t take that risk.

This had to be perfect, after all.  
  


* * *

**The Past-Present**

  
Brainstorm looked up from his workstation in the lab. “Are we back? Did that do it?”

Perceptor’s head snapped up, looking around curiously, seeming disoriented. “I think… wait, did we do what?” 

“We…” Brainstorm squinted into thin air, thinking. “I… actually, I don’t know. I felt like… I thought we were doing something.” 

“Something important,” Perceptor muttered. “You’re right, but… I don’t think… I can’t remember now.” 

“I—” Brainstorm nearly jumped a foot in the air when someone banged on the lab door, shattering the tense atmosphere. 

“Hey, nerds!” Rodimus shouted through the thick metal. “We’ve been trying to comm you for the past fifteen minutes. How interesting could your magic honestly be? Get out here. Briefing room. Space is doing a weird thing again.” 

“Coming, Captain,” Perceptor shouted. “Guess we just got too focused. Shall we?” 

Brainstorm huffed, glaring at the door, composing himself. “Yeah, onto the next mystery. Just a normal cycle on the Lost Light.” 

“Didn’t you just… hmm, strangest thing, I feel like you just said that.”

“Pretty sure it wasn’t me,” Brainstorm said. He thought about it, but shrugged. “Funny, I feel like I just heard it too. Must’ve been some other malcontent on this ship.” 

“Primus, what is taking you two so long?” Rodimus’s muffled voice filtered through the metal door again. “Are you two making out in there or something?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?!” Brainstorm shouted. He waved to Perceptor. “Come on. Clearly our genius is needed elsewhere.”  
  


* * *

**The Far Past**

  
“Hey, you alright?”

Brainstorm blinked as Rodimus tapped his shoulder.

“You okay? Seemed like you zoned out and we need some brainwork right now,” Rodimus said.

“Yeah, I, uh…” He looked over at Perceptor. For some reason he felt like he had been doing something, and needed Perceptor to do it, and when their optics met he got the undeniable feeling that Perceptor felt the same.

But just as soon, the feeling faded.

“Uh, yeah… Let’s get this ship fixed up.”  
  


* * *

**The Present-Future**

  
“Mmm, we should probably get going. Our shift is starting soon.”

Brainstorm pulled Perceptor closer, grinning. “It can wait five more minutes…”  
  


* * *

**The Vague Future**

  
Brainstorm blinked, the lights above him too bright for him. He sighed as someone readjusted them, and smiled when he opened his eyes again and saw one optic and a sniper scope hovering over his face. “Hey there…”

“Hi,” Perceptor said. 

“So… I’m alive…” Brainstorm started. 

“And you missed most of Ratchet’s yelling, so you’re welcome,” Perceptor said, settling down next to him. 

“And… did I dream the whole… time… thing?” 

Perceptor grabbed his hand lightly, stroking his knuckles. “Nope. We deactivated your spark and the briefcases, and as far as I can tell, everyone was returned to their proper time frames at the moment they left. The memories were hazy for me when I returned, but since I had to tell Ratchet why you were flatlining, it jogged my memory quite a bit to say the least.” 

“Yeah, that’ll do it.” Brainstorm settled his free hand over his chest. “And… the little guy. I’m… I’m not getting zapped by him anymore.” 

“Fully differentiated,” Perceptor said. “Ratchet thinks that shutting off your spark gave him the push he needed to completely separate into his own spark, and should develop normally. He said your chamber is narrow enough that it may still cause issues as the process goes on, but you’re both out of the woods. He said you’ll probably still feel sluggish for a bit, but we can leave as soon as you feel better.” 

Brainstorm grabbed his hand tighter. “And all it took was a soft-termination. Bet they never tried that one before.” 

“I’m sure Ratchet and First Aid will be able to publish a paper about the technique, at some point,” Perceptor said, huffing out a laugh. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just the beep of monitors and the soft sound of their fingers brushing. 

“Hey, Percy?” 

“Yes?” 

“No more surprises for a bit, yeah?” Brainstorm said. “I know this sounds uncharacteristic, but I think I’ve had enough time travel for a while.” 

Perceptor shifted himself forward, until his face was hovering over Brainstorm’s. “Hmm, I should probably get Ratchet. I think I brought back an imposter from the time bubble.” 

“You caught me. I’m actually a deadly time wraith, pretending to be your conjunx.” 

“Cute though,” Perceptor said, before leaning over and kissing him. Before he could pull away, though, Brainstorm caught him by the collar. 

“So, umm,” Brainstorm whispered into his lips, not letting him get away too quick. “The briefcase?” 

“Disappeared as soon as we returned,” Perceptor said. 

“But if I followed the sequence of — potentially alternative — events, there’s a chance you have one lying around in storage?” 

Perceptor grinned just slightly. “It’s… a possibility…” 

“Hmm.” He held Perceptor close as he whispered. “Maybe don’t throw that out too quick, huh? I mean… who knows what the future holds, right?” 

“Only our future-selves,” Perceptor said. “And if we haven’t gotten caught in temporal paradox with them yet, how bad could it be?” 

“I’m such a bad influence on you.” 

Perceptor shrugged, and kissed him again. “Still… cute though.”


End file.
